vailles: "Our cousin is losing
his temper."

As the princess kept silent, Gonzague pressed his question: "Is that not
so, madame? Speak! Is this not so? Some one has told you that she is
alive?"

The princess heard the voice behind the curtain whisper: "She lives."
Looking steadily at Gonzague, she said: "She lives, in spite of you, by
the grace of God."

The agitation of the audience was very great. The king directly addressed
the princess: "Can you produce her?"

Again the voice whispered to the Princess, "Yes," and again the Princess
repeated, "Yes," as confidently as before.

"When?" asked the king, to whom Gonzague had at once yielded the
privilege of question.

The voice whispered, "To-night," and the princess repeated the words.

The voice whispered again, "At the ball in the Palais Royal," and again
the Princess echoed it, "At the ball in the Palais Royal."

The king had no more to say; he was silent. Gonzague groaned aloud as he
turned to Flora. "My poor child, only God can give you back the heart of
your mother."

The girl, with the quick impulsiveness of her race, again flung herself
on her knees before the princess, while she cried: "Madame, whether you
are my mother or not, I respect you, I love you!"

The princess laid her hand gently on the girl's dark hair. "My child, my
child, I believe you are no accomplice of this crime. I wish you well."

Flora was now sobbing bitterly, and seemed unable to rise. Peyrolles
hastened to her side, hastened to lift her to her feet, and hurriedly
conducted the weeping girl from the room. The princess, holding her head
high, turned and addressed the king: "Your majesty, my mourning ends
to-day. I have recovered my daughter. I shall be your guest to-night,
sire."

The king bowed profoundly. "Believe that we shall be most proud to
welcome you."

The princess made him a reverence and turned to leave the room. The king
quitted his chair, hastened to her side, and gave her his arm to the
door. When she had departed, Louis of France hastened to Gonzague where
he stood alone, the centre of wondering eyes. "What is the meaning of
this double discovery?" he asked.

Gonzague shook his head with the air of one who is faced by a shameful
conspiracy, but who is not afraid to face it. "I have found Nevers's
child. Who the impostor is I do not know, but I shall know--and then--"

He paused, but his menacing silence was more impressive than any speech.
The king wrung h